Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1) (10 page)

Where Nim was like a slight breeze, Ashur would be a gale. Ashur was a little taller than the average human male, and his gear hid corded muscles as strong as any blacksmith. His pale skin made it apparent that he was not getting enough sun lately. His brown hair was trimmed short so as not to be a bother, and when he wasn't taking his ease he could actually nearly attain a noble stature. The man was actually quite good at stalking, when he wasn't mumbling.

“Stupid Sewers, don't know why we got to take care of things like this. City's got guards ya' know!” Ashur murmured while looking back at his companion. He nearly stumbled on what Nim hoped was mud, and turned his focus back to the path ahead. Obviously not wanting to fall face first into whatever it was his boot had found.

Stepping around whatever it was that Ashur slipped on Nim moved closer to his friend so he could speak quietly. “Yes my large friend, but as you know, there are only a few of the watch whom could handle a creature as challenging as I believe this one will be. Not to mention, those that could handle this creature have much more important things to worry about at the moment. Besides, I needed to get out of the mansion. We have been cooped up too long, you and I.”

“I know that, you don't think I know that?” Ashur nearly bellowed the second half of his question.

“Will you keep your voice down you big ox! I'm pretty sure that he already knows we're trailing him, and he doesn't seem to be too worried about it. I'd rather not have him knowing exactly where we are.”
Then again, we could always use you as bait.
Nim grinned at the thought of anything mistaking Ashur as easy prey.

Ashur's focus was on the path ahead, so he failed to notice the grin on his companions face. “Hell, at least if it knew we were back here it might stop so we don't have quite so far to walk to get home. Besides, I'm tired and hungry, and you have a meeting with the merchant's guild shortly after sunrise. Let's get this done as quickly as possible. It's already gonna' take us till night's heart to find a way outa' here.”

“Well, we have been gone awhile, I….” Nim hushed as he sensed movement up ahead.

Ashur eased his axe out from behind him when his companion fell silent, and checked the longsword at his side. He turned to make eye contact with Nim, and Nim recognized the gleam in those brown eyes. It was the one that said he was getting ready for a fight, or looking at a beautiful woman(both potentially dangerous situations). “Party time I'd say.”

“Your wish is my command” Nim slipped into the embrace of the shadows.

He had long ago learned how to use the shadows that already existed to create a greater darkness for himself to hide in. It was a much easier process down here, where there was little light to begin with. As long as he didn't run into any Grey Elves, or any of the other creatures that possessed a natural sense that allows them to sense body heat, he would be completely concealed. Slipping to the opposite side of the corridor Nim moved silently along the wall. He was the first one to see the creature.

It stood about 10 feet tall, with it's head only about a foot below the ceiling. Black wings were protruding from its back in a grizzly sort of manner. The wings looked as if they had only recently developed, and had forced themselves out of the thing's back. Nim assumed that it was an Ogre with a little too much black dragon blood running through it's veins. He came to this conclusion not only from the malformed wings, but from the creature's skin and face. Its skin was somewhere between the thick gray hide of an ogre, and the dark scales of a black dragon(Nim always liked calling the condition skin-scales, for it not only summed up what he was talking about, but it also rolled off the tongue rather teasingly).

The worst part feature of the creature was, by far, its grotesque bulbous face. Like the rest of the thing, its face couldn't seem to decide if it was Ogre or Dragon. It was definitely Ogre in nature, yet its face protruded outward into a reptilian snout. Sharp pointed teeth lined the maw of the beast in uneven patterns. It also had a small horn like protrusion sticking out each side of its head that curved forward. The horns had developed behind its ears, and had pressed the ear lobes forward as they grew, potentially limiting the things hearing.

Located directly across from the creature, yet safely concealed by the shadows and his cloak, Nim watched Ashur and the creature slink up to the same corner. They arrived at the corner at about the same time, and both stuck their heads around the corner to have a look around. It took all of Nim's self control to not burst out laughing at the scene. He watched Ashur's face as he recognized that he was looking at the creatures belly, and slowly brought his gaze upward to see the creatures face. Meanwhile big, ugly, and apparently none too bright was still looking down the hall. Nim slipped off to the left to get behind the creature before it realized that deaths messengers had come a calling.

Meanwhile

Knowing the drill, Ashur slipped up to the corner where the thing had turned only minutes before. Carefully and with a practiced ease he slid his gaze around the corner. He had not been expecting a giant scaly belly to be six inches away from his face and if it hadn't been for his experience and training, he surely would have cried out. Instead, he slid his gaze upward to see the outline of a disfigured humanoid face peering around the corner above him. The four foot difference in height was working to his advantage at the moment. If it hadn't been for his close proximity to the creature he probably wouldn't have been able to see it; Unlike Nim, Ashur couldn't see more than a couple feet around him in this low light.

Silently congratulating himself for already having his axe at the ready Ashur squatted as low to the ground as he could in order to gain as much momentum on his swing as he could. After what seemed like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than ten heart beats, the creature finally looked down. In a blur of motion Ashur sent the steel of his blade swinging for the creature's neck. The creature pulled back in surprise and hit its head on the ceiling. Ashur's swing ended up hitting the shoulder of the massive beast, and deflected off of it's collar bone. Still, the creature took a mighty blow from the axe and the upper portion of its left shoulder was hanging from his back by his skin-scales.

Backing up to get some room on his foe the Ogre-Dragon wasn't expecting anything to attack from behind. Nim stabbed hard with one of his daggers cutting deep and nearly severing one of the beast's wings. The Creature was now howling in excruciating pain.

Great, this is where it gets fun, nothing better than a half crazed Ogre-Dragon hybrid that's backed into a corner fighting for it's life.
Nim's mind set into motion thinking of all the things the creature could do.
You gonna run or you gonna fight, my large mouse?
His question was answered a second later when the beast went into a frenzy of motion swinging its arms in every direction striking out blindly at those who had hurt it.

Staying out of the creatures reach and yet within sight was difficult, but Ashur dared not move any closer while the thing's arms were flailing.
Great, Nim drags me into yet another situation where I can't see a damn thing in front of my face. If it weren't for the creature being so damn big, and flailing around so damn much, I probably wouldn't even be able to see it. Yet again I'm the only one who can't see a damn thing.
Thinking about how Nim was behind the creature he amended his thoughts and decided that he wasn't the only one with a disadvantage.
Sure, you can see me, but who was it that poked ya' in your backside?
With that thought he broke into a big guffaw and raced toward the flailing beast into what he considered his favorite kind of fight, the kind you might not walk away from.

“Eat the blade of my axe” Ashur swung wide hoping to get under the creatures right arm and score a hit into the creature's midsection. Right before the blow connected he learned that his earlier shot to the creature's shoulder had not reduced the strength in it's left arm by much as it slammed into his side sending him flying across the corridor into the opposite wall.

In the time it took Ashur to run wildly into battle and get flung a dozen feet Nim had imbedded a dagger into the creature and was getting ready to throw another. He let fly and hit the creature's other wing as he watched his friend's body knocked, quite literally, into the wall on the other side of the corridor. “Stay there!”

Ashur let out a groan as he found himself partially embedded into a rock wall.
Ok, I'll stay right here.
He thought that it sounded like a good Idea. Still he started moving his arms and legs to make sure they worked and accidentally unplugged himself from the wall and plopped unceremoniously onto the floor. “Ugh.”

“Who behind me that thinks they so sneaky? I smell you serpent. Now I pluck out your fangs me thinks, yes?” The beast turned around to face what he considered the greater threat. He was still satiated from his earlier meal, but now thirsted for something else, blood. He expected to see one of the various Lizard-men species, or one of the vicious dragon-men; known to the rest of the continent as the Dracair. Instead he found a creature that looked an awful lot like any other human. That was as much as his small brain was able to process before the hairs on his body stood up and the world was filled with light and pain.

Ashur was getting up onto his knees when the lightning arced out of Nim's hands and struck the beast full in the chest. He closed his eyes from the sudden brightness of the bolt, but not quickly enough. Spots were everywhere on the inside of his eyelids, and when he opened his eyes again the spots were all he could see.

Nim walked up to the downed creature and pulled back his hood revealing his face to the beast.

The beast looked up into the face of deaths messenger. He looked into the eyes of this man and realized why he had smelled serpentine. “Why you kill Granik, you Dragon-man, Dracair? yes? We hate humans.”

Nim looked into the face of the beast and nodded solemnly
.
“Yes, I am the bastard son of a Dracairei, but I am nothing like you.” With that he slit the throat of the creature, granting him a quick death, a courtesy that was not afforded to the beasts victims earlier this night.

Chapter 3

The Life of a Thief

Year 3043 AGD

The Day of New Beginnings

Continent of Terroval

City of Safeharbor

Docks district

The Serpents Dagger

Second Floor

Walkins had told Victor that he would teach him everything he needed to know to survive on the streets, and he had kept that promise. The old man taught him how to use his dagger for more things than just fighting, and he could now open many locks with ease without relying on his skills as a Shaper. The last year had been tough, but Victor had persevered. Victor had also realized that many of the things that Shaylyn had taught him could be utilized in his new profession. The most important of which was the ability to pay attention and think things through. He had also realized how many things Shaylyn had neglected to teach him, things that he knew she never wanted him to know. Those prior and new lessons were allowing him to become quite the thief however, and he knew he would become even better as time went by.

“Superbly done Victor, I can sell this for quite a bit of money.” Walkins held up a necklace encrusted with pearls and diamonds in a web pattern that any lady of wealth would love to wear. The old man had had quit trying to trick Victor into stealing things from “bad men” or “rich fools who don't care about you.” He still used that method with most of the boys, but Victor knew better. Victor understood what he was doing was wrong, but he did what he had to do to survive.

Victor quit thinking about what Shaylyn would have said six months ago, when he realized that he could steal from the rich (who wouldn't miss most of the things he stole) and use the money he “earned” to help a single mother who was barely scraping by. He had also begun buying coats for the other street kids who didn't have any winter clothes. Sure, Walkins lost a bit of money, percentage wise, when dealing with Victor, but Victor always found a way to pull off a big score. The rest of the boys were still picking pockets, or begging, except Shawnrik, who was becoming a better thief with Victor around.

Some nights Victor would use his ability with Shaping to Alter his appearance so that he looked like a Gnome or a Halfling. This way he could go into the taverns and other night houses to gain information that would otherwise be beyond the reach of an eight year old, no matter how advanced. It was the most complicated bit of Shaping he knew, and it required a lot of concentration to keep the disguise in place. Besides, it always made his skin itch afterward. He had tried drinking once, just a sip, and woke up the next morning in an alley sleeping in his oversized cloak without his money. His skin had gone back to it's regular texture sometime during the night, and he was lucky not to have been found out. He decided that drinking was not a good idea, and made a vow not to try it again for a long while.

Victor had also learned about the Syndicate of the Raven, which is the name for the organization that oversees the elements of the city. People said that Safeharbor was the most secure city on the face of Terrazil, but the Syndicate was the chink in that armor. A large percent of the Syndicate's business took place in the back alleys of the Docks District, but they had also managed to take over some of the old strongholds in the caverns far beneath the city. You could find just about anything in the halls of the Syndicate, if you were willing to pay the price. There were quite a few business deals that occurred regularly that Victor found quite appalling. Most of which consisted of the sale of creatures or people.

“Victor?”

“What?”

“Were you listening?” Walkins voice took on the dangerous edge that he used when he thought one of the lads wasn't paying attention. It was a tone that promised swift punishment if such a thing was found out to be true, and Ol' man Walkins never threatened anyone if he wasn't willing to back it up.